Christmastime 1943

by Linda Mahkovec

  Ursula walked up to him, and took his hands, and felt all his pent up love and sorrow and passion. Her mouth softened into a sad smile, to see that he trembled before her.

  “Ursula,” he said, his heart brimming.

  The agonizing tension between them finally disappeared, as they embraced and pressed into each other. She raised her face to him, and he brought his lips to hers. The moment hovered in timelessness.

  Friedrich gently cupped her face in his hands. “I love you, Ursula. I’m so sorry, but I love you completely.”

  “And I love you, Friedrich. God help me, but I love you with all my heart.” She reached up and held him tightly, stunned by the enormity of her passion for him, wanting to dissolve into him, into all that is tender and beautiful.

  A passionate embrace, a kiss made all the sweeter for having been suppressed for so long, was suddenly broken by the cruel rumble of a truck coming up the farmhouse lane; the finely spun dream-world they had so briefly set foot in, now crumbled before them.

  His eyes filled with desperate sadness again. “I can’t bear to lose you, Ursula.”

  “You won’t. I will wait for you, Friedrich – no matter how long it takes.”

  In that golden moment, their lives changed forever, knowing that no matter how long the war lasted, no matter what else happened, they belonged to each other, and nothing would come between them.

  A flash of headlights as the truck pulled up shone into the kitchen window, and the breaks squealed to a stop. A voice called out to him.

  They embraced and kissed one more time, and then Friedrich quickly left as footsteps fell on the porch.

  Ursula stood motionless. She heard the kitchen door slam, heard the truck door creak open and shut, heard the truck turn back onto the lane. She then ran upstairs to her bedroom window and watched the truck drive away from her. She kept her eyes fixed on it as it turned onto the country road and slowly disappeared in the distance.

  Radiance filled her face and her heart swelled with wild joy – she had seen happiness in his beautiful eyes, and she knew the strength of his love.

  Then her smile slowly faded, and her thoughts became tempered with a more sobering vision – though no less beautiful – for she knew the path she was going to take, and the trouble it would bring.

  Chapter 13

  *

  In the official bomb shelter for the neighborhood, the basement of the apartment building where Mickey and Billy Kinney lived, Tommy lay wide awake in the darkness – trying not to think of what he had seen that night at the hospital. But the images kept coming back. He had accidentally rushed into the wrong ward. Some kind of ward where things were bad. He didn’t know that things could be so bad. Not like that.

  He had stood inside the room – frozen. The moans were the first thing that frightened him – they were grown men sounds, new to his ears. Cries, groans, even a scream. His stomach had clenched. But he told himself he could do this. He swallowed and straightened up. He would show them that he would soon be a soldier and would take care of the enemy. He took a step forward.

  The smell was the next thing to hit him. He didn’t know what it was – medicine, and something else he didn’t want to think about. Another step forward.

  Then he saw them – broken, wounded, bandaged. Limbs gone, faces partly gone, mouths twisted, eyes full of horror. They were watching him.

  He stood immobile – trying to be brave. He felt so bad for them – they were soldiers, but they were all messed up, crooked, broken – it was all wrong, not how war and heroes were supposed to be. He didn’t want the world to be like this.

  He wanted to be strong and brave – for them – but he wanted to cry. His stomach started to rise. His head felt light, he felt the blood leave his face, and he broke into a sweat, drenched. He backed out of the room, and found the men’s room just in time.

  The next thing he remembered was the doctor leaning over him. Asking him questions. Giving him water. He was a nice man. Kind, gentle like a mother.

  Tommy turned in his sleep, trying to remember the doctor, his kind old face. But those other images, those faces were walking towards him. He was scared to death. Scared they would get him, scared he was one of them . . .

  *

  Lillian, wrapped in one of Charles’s shirts, had barely fallen asleep when the phone rang. She jumped up, glanced at the clock, and rushed into the living room. It was Mickey’s mother, Mrs. Kinney, speaking softly into the phone. Lillian’s heart began to pound.

  “Sorry to call at this hour, but – ”

  “Mrs. Kinney, what is it? Are the boys all right?”

  “They’re fine. Gabriel is asleep. But Tommy – ”

  “What? Is he sick?”

  “No, he’s fine, but he’s more upset than we realized.”

  “What do you mean? Did something happen?”

  “Apparently when they were at the hospital, he got lost after going to the bathroom and went into the wrong ward – with serious injuries. I think he saw some things that really upset him. We didn’t know about it until he woke up crying – in a jumble we pieced it together. He said he wants to go home. So Michael will take him. They’re just leaving now.”

  “Thank you. I’ll go downstairs and wait for them.”

  Lillian threw on her robe and slippers, ran downstairs, and opened the vestibule door. She waited at the top of the steps outside, shivering. She soon saw Tommy and Mr. Kinney walking towards the building.

  As they climbed the steps, she could see that Tommy was trying to be brave about it and she thought it best not to embrace him right now.

  “Thanks, Mr. Kinney,” said Tommy. “Sorry.”

  Mr. Kinney rubbed his shoulder. “No need to apologize, Tommy. I’m just sorry it happened. And you can still come back for breakfast, if you want.” Mr. Kinney looked up at Lillian, his eyes full of a father’s concern, then back at Tommy. “We’re fixing a GI breakfast – spam and eggs, if you want.”

  “Thanks. I’ll think about it.”

  Mr. Kinney nodded goodnight to Lillian, turned up his coat collar against the cold, and headed back home.

  Lillian opened the door for Tommy and followed him up the stairs, noticing that he was still in his pajamas. When they reached their apartment, Tommy took off his coat, went straight to bed, and climbed under the covers.

  Lillian sat next to him, stroking his hair back from his forehead. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

  Tommy looked away, trying to figure out if he wanted to describe what he’d seen. He quickly shook his head. “I – I don’t want to talk about it, Mom.”

  “That’s okay, Sweetheart.” She continued watching him, and it seemed to her that he was trying not to see the images in his mind. “Are you sleepy?”

  He shook his head.

  “Do you feel like some hot milk – with honey and cinnamon?”

  He sat up a little and smiled with one side of his mouth. “Yeah. That sounds good.”

  “I’ll be right back.”

  A little of the worry left Tommy’s face as he heard the sounds of his mother moving about the kitchen.

  Lillian soon came back with two mugs of hot milk. “Here you go.”

  Tommy reached for the mug, and then tilted his head, puzzled. “How come you’re wearing Dad’s shirt?”

  Lillian looked down and pulled her robe closer around her. “Oh – I couldn’t find my nightgown.”

  As they sipped on the hot, comforting drink, Lillian described all the things they would do up at Annette’s.

  “I’ll pack a lunch for the train ride, and make sure to include some cookies and fudge. But we’ll have to save our appetites, because you know Annette will have a big meal all ready for us.”

  “I bet she’ll make roast chicken with potatoes,” said Tommy. “And creamed corn.”

  “I bet she does. And I’m sure she’ll have a pie baked, still warm from the oven. Apple, or pumpkin. Or maybe both.”

  Tommy’s smile grew a
t the vision. “And this year,” he said, “we’ll help Uncle Bernie find the tree. We’ll chop it down, and carry it back on the sled, and decorate it.”

  Lillian rocked back and forth, stroking his hair. “And you and Gabriel can go sledding.”

  “Maybe we’ll make snow ice cream.”

  “Mmm,” Lillian nodded, widening her eyes at the good idea. “And we’ll make a big fire in the fireplace on Christmas Eve.”

  “And open our presents,” Tommy said with a grin.

  “You haven’t been peeking, have you?” asked Lillian, in mock worry.

  “No,” laughed Tommy. He soon finished his hot milk, and snuggled down under his covers.

  Lillian set the mugs down on the dresser and kissed his forehead.

  “Mom?”

  Lillian looked down at him.

  “I wish Dad could come with us.”

  “I know. So do I. Maybe by next year the war will be over and we’ll all go up there together.”

  He nodded, and turned over on his side, facing her.

  “Mom?” he asked sleepily.

  “Hmm?”

  “I don’t want you to think I’m a baby – but will you stay with me tonight?”

  “Of course, Sweetheart. I’ll be right here with you – all night.”

  *

  Mrs. Kinney called again in the morning to say that Gabriel was on his way home. Lillian opened the apartment door, and set another plate on the table, across from Tommy. Tommy took a bite of his pancake. “He’s just in time.”

  They soon heard Gabriel running up the stairs, and he burst into the apartment, all smiles. Then his face filled with indignation as he saw the plate of pancakes and the maple syrup and jam on the table.

  “Hey! No fair! I just had to eat a GI omelet and soy biscuits – yuck!”

  “Don’t worry, Gabe,” said Tommy. “We just started. There’s plenty for you.”

  Gabriel was soon at the table pouring maple syrup over his pancakes. “We’re lucky, aren’t we, Mom? That Aunt Annette and Uncle Bernie have an orchard and always send us stuff. Maple syrup and honey and jam.”

  “Yes, we are, and speaking of the orchard, I have some good news for you.”

  His eyes grew big and he turned from her to Tommy. “What?”

  “Annette called this morning and said that Bernie and Danny are coming to the city the day after tomorrow and will take you and Tommy back with them. And I’ll follow on Saturday.”

  “You mean – we can miss school?”

  Lillian smiled and nodded. “I’ll work it out with your teachers. A few days won’t hurt.”

  “Oh, man, Tommy. That means more time for sledding and snow forts and . . .”

  The rest of the breakfast was spent talking about the big trip, now just a day away. Tommy and Gabriel laughed about things that had happened the last time they were there, and asked questions about Bernie’s nephew, Danny, and how old their little cousins were now.

  Lillian let the boys play outside with the neighborhood kids, and even gave them money for the ice cream parlor. To have Tommy smiling and happy was all she cared about. She hoped the images would fade from his mind, and that the rest of his Christmas would be a happy one – despite the fact that Charles would not be there.

  In the afternoon, her phone rang again. Fearing some new crisis, she jumped up to answer it, and was relieved to hear Izzy.

  “I have to stop by work to drop off some paperwork that Rockwell had the nerve to ask me to complete over the weekend. Thought I’d drop by, if you’re not busy.”

  “Of course. I could use your company. I was just going to fix some coffee – I’ll wait for you.” Lillian was happy for the opportunity to smooth over things with Izzy; she would make sure Izzy knew how happy she was for her and Archie.

  Twenty minutes later, Izzy came in carrying a boxed cake. “To go with the coffee. I passed the boys outside and they told me their news about going to your sister’s. They seem pretty happy about it.” She looked closer at Lillian.

  “You look like you didn’t get much sleep last night. Everything okay?”

  Lillian briefly told her about Tommy, and that she was glad they would be up in the country soon.

  “Poor kid. That’ll be the best thing for him – for all of you.”

  Lillian poured their coffee and put a few slices of cake onto a plate. “I’m out of sugar. But I can offer you some honey.”

  “That’ll be swell. Speaking of sugar – here. I brought these for you.” She pulled out some rationing coupons for sugar. “You can have mine. I won’t be doing any baking any time soon.”

  “I can’t take yours.”

  “Go ahead. Bake some cookies for the boys. It’ll make me happy. Hey, you left pretty early last night. You missed the conga line. I tried to find you. One of the gals at the table said she saw you at the coat check and that you looked pretty upset.”

  Lillian groaned and put her hands over her face at the memory. “I’m sorry, Izzy. I didn’t even say goodnight. I – I had to get away from that man.”

  “Oh ho! Did Don Juan show his true colors? He’s one of the more successful cads, from what I hear.”

  Lillian blushed at the memory of his words. “I should have slapped his face. I wanted to.”

  “What happened? Did he make a pass at you?”

  “A pass? Izzy, he propositioned me! I can’t even tell you what he said.”

  Lillian’s eyes burned with indignation, and then settled into dismay. “I – I just wanted to feel alive again. I was so happy, dancing, talking to everyone. He’s a clever one – first he got me to talk about Charles, then he got me talking about myself, my art – and how his sister Sally was an artist. I found out he doesn’t even have a sister! The brute. Preying on lonely women in times like these.”

  “Oh, don’t be so hard on him.”

  Lillian opened her mouth in surprise, and anger, that Izzy didn’t see the outrage of it.

  Izzy put up her hands in defense. “No, I agree – it was wrong of him, dreadfully wrong. But look at it from his point of view – he’s going back to the fighting soon. He’s just grabbing at life and love and beauty while he can. Like all the guys. In one way or another.”

  Lillian thought of young Ernest at the hospital, and Izzy’s infatuation with Archie, and all the hasty marriages taking place with the girls in the office – everyone seemed desperate for love. She wondered if it was some sort of counterbalance to the effects of war. She shook her head, unable to make sense of anything.

  “You’re right, Izzy. I’m just angry that I was so easily duped.”

  “You’re out of practice is all. Now me, on the other hand, I’ve been around such behavior for years. I just brush it off if it comes my way. Unless, of course, I’m interested.”

  Lillian took a sip of coffee, momentarily lost in thought. “Do you think such things are different now – because of the war?”

  Izzy took a bite of the cake and gave the question some thought. She nodded slowly. “I do. I think the war disorients people. I’ve seen women – who I know are madly in love with their husbands – have affairs. And I’ve met plenty of guys who go on and on about their girls, yet end the night with – a proposition, as you say. Crazy.”

  Lillian shook her head. “My God, I hope it’s all over soon. Nothing is clear anymore. Everything is fragmented, broken, confusing.”

  She lifted the coffee pot, and refilled their cups. “I’m glad to be going to Annette’s. The boys need to get away from all this, and run wild, and play with abandon. And I’ll be going home. Annette and I can bake cookies, and talk late at night in front of the fire, and watch the kids play in the snow.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. I’ve decided to go home for the holidays.”

  Lillian looked up from her cup. “Is Archie going with you?”

  “No. He left for Yonkers this morning. He’ll spend Christmas there.” She laughed at Lillian’s surprise. “It’s all over.”

  “Oh, I
zzy! I’m sorry for what I said about Archie. I had no business. If you’re in love, and he loves you – ”

  “No – you were right, Lilly. That’s why I got so mad. It wasn’t love. I know it. He knows it. I can’t take away his chance to find real love.” Izzy shook her head. “I kept calling him Red. After all this time, it was still about Red, and longing for the way things used to be.”

  Lillian saw the pain behind the brave face. “Oh, Izzy.”

  “I explained it to him.” She was near tears but was not going to give in to sadness. “He was so swell about it, I almost changed my mind. I saw him off at the train station.” She took a deep breath and sat up straight. “I told him there was some lucky girl out there just waiting to meet him. And he said, then he better go find her. Then he poked his head out the train window and said – ‘I’ll find her, all right. And when I do, I’ll just have to make sure I don’t call her Izzy!’ And he waved goodbye.”

  Izzy tried to laugh. “He was such a swell guy. But, no. It wasn’t love.” She took a sip of coffee, and set her cup down. “I guess I have to count myself lucky to have known love once. We – Red and I – we did love each other. And if it hadn’t been for this war – and his being wounded – I know everything would have been wonderful. We were so perfect for each other.”

  The two friends sat silent for a moment. Then Izzy took out her hankie, blew her nose, and snapped her purse shut. That was that. She shook her head, and took another bite of cake.

  Lillian had been observing Izzy, unsure of whether to pursue the topic of Red.

  “You know, Red still sends us a Christmas card every year. Just a brief note.”

  Izzy gave a light shrug. “He does the same for me. Why? I don’t know, but the lout still sends me cards on my birthday and Christmas. I don’t answer. I figure he’s just trying to lessen his guilt.”

  Lillian hadn’t realized that Izzy was still in love with Red. But now she saw it clearly.

  “He always asks about you, Izzy. This year it was different, somehow. I felt that he really wanted to know how you were doing. If you were happy. He asked if you had found someone. I didn’t know how to answer. I don’t know how much you want him to know.”